


The Time Of Greatest Need

by siyastar



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologetic Arthur Pendragon, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Once and Future King, Pining, Post-Canon, Pre-Slash, Protective Arthur, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Sad Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Sad Merlin (Merlin), Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siyastar/pseuds/siyastar
Summary: 1000 years. He had waited patiently. Waited and cursed the fates for their dark, twisted sense of humor. Was this some sort of cruel joke? He had promised that he would protect Arthur with his life, or that he would die trying. But now Merlin was left to pick up the broken pieces alone.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 134





	1. Merlin

1000 years. He had waited patiently. Waited and cursed the fates for their dark, twisted sense of humor. Was this some sort of cruel joke? He had promised that he would protect Arthur with his life, or that he would die trying. But now Merlin was left to pick up the broken pieces alone. 

For the first little while he visited Avalon every day. He still lived in Camelot, for he knew he would need to put aside his own loss and support the grieving kingdom. He helped until all those he had once loved left him behind and moved on to the next life. Merlin was tempted to join them, but he couldn’t leave Arthur alone if he came back. And Merlin had a feeling that he could not leave the mortal realm even if he tried anyway. Though his friends all grew old and grey, nary a wrinkle showed on Merlin’s face unless he willed it so. And he did, he could not bear the thought of his friends viewing him as more of an anomaly than he already was. 

So, when he deemed it a good age, he left Camelot with the excuse of dying in his hometown of Ealdor. There was no one left who cared enough to stop him.

For the next 100 years Merlin had taken up residence in a small cabin next to the lake, hoping against all hope that he would see a gloved hand rise from the water, or even hear a ripple, but Avalon remained tauntingly still. The days blurred together, each morning bringing as much hope as the last, and each night bringing the same overwhelming pain. He didn’t even have his old friends to talk to anymore. No one was left that could understand him. Merlin felt alone in a way he had not known he could. It didn’t help that it seemed he would not die. Merlin stayed the age he had been on That fateful day, when Arthur had-

No. He could not even think it. Merlin stayed that age because he figured that when Arthur returned, he would be grateful for the familiar face. It wouldn’t do to go running down to greet him as an old man. Especially since Arthur knew the old man as Dragoon, an evil sorcerer. Merlin would probably have to explain that one day. Then a horrible thought struck him. What if Arthur didn’t remember him? 

That was unthinkable. Merlin quickly buried that doubt with all the others.

One night, as Merlin thrashed around in his sleep, reliving the events of That day, he awoke with a start. In the distance, he thought he could hear the sound of waves crashing. Waves? But Avalon didn’t have any. Unless…

Heart thumping in his chest, he threw off his covers and stumbled for the door. He always slept in day clothes now, just in case Arthur returned while he was sleeping. He didn’t want to waste any time getting to his king, and it seemed his forethought had finally payed off. In his hurry Merlin didn’t even bother to put on a jacket or shoes. 

He couldn’t help the giddy laugh that escaped when he saw the unmistakable glint of silver armour in the distance. He ran towards Arthur, taking in his appearance. He looked the same as he had on That day. 

Arthur smiled that special smile at him when he got closer and held out his arms. Merlin rushed into the embrace, choking back a sob. 

“Arthur, I-”

The rest of his words were muffled by the cold metal of Arthur’s armour. Arthur shushed him, gently stroking Merlin’s hair.

“Come on Merlin. Don’t be such a girl.”

Despite that, neither of them let go.

Suddenly, Arthur went completely rigid. Surprised, Merlin stepped back. 

“What happened?” He hesitantly asked. 

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. 

“What? I can’t hear you,” Merlin started towards Arthur again, reaching out to touch him. To Merlin’s horror, his hand came away sandy. Arthur collapsed, eyes closing once again.

Merlin frantically tried to wake him up, but Arthur dissolved in his arms. 

Merlin jerked awake, momentarily confused. Then the previous events came flooding back and Merlin couldn’t help the tears running down his face. He felt sick. It had all been a dream; Arthur wasn’t really here. Oh, what he would give to be called a girl again.

Many nights Merlin dreamt that Arthur had returned, and he awoke feeling a bubbling happiness. Then he would look around and be brought crashing back into reality. In other nightmares, when Arthur returned, he did not remember Merlin. Merlin wasn’t sure which dreams hurt the most.

At one point, Merlin had had enough. If Arthur wouldn’t come to him it was up to Merlin to go to Arthur. Steeling his resolve, he stepped into the water. Merlin gasped at the cold but didn’t stop. He was knee deep now. He kept walking, straight forward. Waist deep. He kept going. The water was up to his chin now. A couple more steps. At last, Merlin was fully submerged in the water. He didn’t panic as much as he thought he would. If this was death, it wasn’t so bad. The water started entering his lungs. Merlin couldn’t breathe. Oh, the pain. But this was a new type of pain, and he didn’t fight it. Eyes closed; Merlin accepted his fate. 

But it seemed fate did not accept him. 

For when Merlin’s eyes opened, he was once again on the beach, choking and spluttering. Every time he tried, the same thing happened. The fates would not let him join Arthur. How dare they? Or maybe it was his magic that did not allow him to go yet. He screamed and cried at the lake until his throat was raw, but nothing changed. It seemed he was forced to live this hellish existence alone. Merlin wasn’t sure if there was any point in that existence anymore, but someone out there clearly thought otherwise. Merlin felt helpless and tired. So very tired.

He tried to hate Arthur for leaving him so abruptly, but he found he could not. A half could not hate what made it whole. Is that what the dragon had said? It had been so long Merlin could not remember the exact words. He had never been able to understand Kilgarrah’s riddles when he was still in Camelot, anyway. 

Finally, Merlin decided to do something. He could never bring himself to stray too far from Avalon, just in case, but couldn’t bear the solitude any longer. He went into the world and met people, kept with the times, learned their new ways. When the Great War happened, he was sure Arthur would rise, and then the war after that. But the shores of Avalon remained devastatingly king-less. If that was not Albion’s greatest need, Merlin shuddered to think of what it would be.

Merlin tried to move on, and in a way he did. He found a purpose in helping others from behind the scenes, never getting close enough to anyone to let their death hurt him. Whenever a miracle happened, it was likely Merlin was somehow involved. He helped those in need, especially the victims of tragedy. Every night he would go back to his home and fight back tears, but at least he was doing something. 

He found that his magic was the only thing that could comfort him. With its help and the help of some skills he picked up through his many years, Merlin was able to create a likeness of Arthur. He somehow managed to capture the twinkle in Arthur’s eye when he “insulted” Merlin, the quirk of his lips when Merlin did something funny and made him smile. Merlin talked to the painting every night. Sometimes, he was almost sure it answered.

However, Merlin couldn’t stop himself from wondering. If he had listened to the great dragon and vanquished Morgana and Mordred when he had been told, would he have prevented this heartbreak? Would Arthur have lived the full life he had been meant to live? He knew it was too late, and that this line of thought would only lead to more tears and self-loathing, but Merlin couldn’t help it. The questions plagued him daily as he stared at the painting of Arthur. Time was supposed to heal wounds, but Merlin knew this was one wound that would never heal.

_If I hadn’t been such a coward, I would have been able to save him._


	2. Arthur

It hurt Arthur to see Merlin like this. It hurt in a way that wouldn’t let him sleep. Not that he needed to anyway, what with being half dead, but still. 

The spirits in the lake had taken pity on him and allowed him to watch over the world, though he could never interact with it. Of course, Arthur’s world only consisted of Merlin, so he watched over him. Arthur grieved when Merlin cried, which was an alarming amount in those first few centuries. 

His heart ached when Merlin would stare at the lake on his knees, a seemingly never-ending stream of tears falling from his eyes. Arthur wished he could run up to Merlin, wipe his tears and never let go. And he tried, he would walk to where Merlin was kneeling and fall beside him. But for all his magic, Merlin could not see him. A half-strangled laugh left Arthur’s lips when he remembered one of his first meetings with the young warlock. 

“Tell me Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?” 

Their relationship from there had consisted of easy banter back and forth, and Merlin never seemed to mind Arthur’s seemingly harsh treatment of him, even returning the favour at times. But Arthur knew he was far too rough on Merlin. Now Arthur would give anything for one more chance to apologize for not believing what Merlin had been telling him all along, and to tell Merlin what he really meant to him. 

His half-life in Avalon gave him plenty of time to reflect back on his time spent in the mortal world. He thought back to when Merlin had told him he had magic. It didn’t surprise Arthur as much as it should’ve. All those years Merlin had survived battles armed with nothing but the clothes on his back and come out mostly unscathed. It also explained how Merlin always seemed to know what magical beast they were facing and how to defeat it. Arthur wondered how many times Merlin had secretly defeated the monsters and given the credit to Arthur. 

Contrary to popular belief, Arthur wasn’t stupid. He knew which beasts could only be killed by magic. He knew someone had been looking out for him his whole life, he just hadn’t realized that someone had been hiding in plain sight. He wished he could thank Merlin.

When Merlin had his nightmares, Arthur provided him comfort in the only way he could. He stayed with Merlin. 

Then one day it seemed Merlin had taken matters into his own hands. Arthur watched in horror as Merlin walked into the lake, with a serene grace that Arthur found didn’t suit Merlin. He yelled at Merlin to stop, but of course Merlin didn’t hear a thing. To Arthur’s immense relief the spirits of the lake seemed to agree with Arthur for once. They pushed Merlin back to shore when it seemed he was on the brink. But Merlin seemed to have lost none of his stubbornness; he tried again and again, breaking Arthur’s heart more with each attempt. At last Merlin seemed to accept that he would not be allowed to join Arthur that way and he sank to the ground. 

As Merlin screamed his name over and over, pleading Arthur to come back, Arthur did something he was not accustomed to doing. 

He cried. 

As the years went on, Merlin seemed to piece himself back together enough that he could help others, and Arthur could not have been prouder. He never stopped pleading with the spirits to let him go back, but their answer was always the same. _Wait._  
Arthur grew frustrated. He had waited! He had waited for almost 1000 years! What more did they want from him? They told him he would return when Albion’s need was greatest, but Albion was no more. Was this just a cruel joke? The spirits did not answer.

And so, Arthur watched. He watched as Merlin faced the horrors of not one but two wars. He watched as Merlin made a very realistic portrait of Arthur (was there nothing this man could not do?). No matter how many years passed, Merlin stayed the same. He still wore that ridiculous neckerchief that Arthur so loved. Not that he would ever admit it.

Arthur’s heart, barely mended, broke again when Merlin spoke to the portrait as if it would respond. And unbeknownst to Merlin, his questions and conversations were not as one-sided as they seemed. 

“Arthur, you lazy prat,” Merlin said to the portrait, eyes glistening. “You really went to sleep and left me here, huh?”

_Oh hush, Merlin._ Arthur drawled. _I wouldn’t leave you in charge of an empty room._

“When are you coming back? I don’t know how you’ve survived without me for this long, god knows you can’t do anything without me.” Merlin closed his eyes, “I miss you, you clotpole. A lot.”

_You don’t know how much I want to come back. And pardon yourself, I could absolutely live without you. Though it wouldn’t be much of a life, I admit. And look at the state you’re in! Shameful. A king’s servant should at least be presentable. And, I- I miss you too. More than I should._

As if he really heard what Arthur had said, Merlin ran his hand through his hair, trying to flatten the bedhead. It was a losing battle. Arthur’s breath caught. Could Merlin really hear him? But his hopes were crushed when Merlin sighed and said, 

“What am I doing? I’m going insane. Talking to a picture.”

_Going? You’ve always been insane. And you’re talking to me Merlin. Don’t stop, please, hear me._

Arthur sighed. A king, begging his servant. The things he did for Merlin. 

Though admittedly Merlin was a bit more than a servant. Just a bit.

Merlin put Arthur’s picture on his nightstand and turned to fall into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't tend to see much Arthur angst, so I figured I'd add some!


	3. Merthur

Finally, Merlin couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t. He had waited for too long. He knew he could not last another day alone. He had helped many people, surely the fates would reward him now. With this in mind, he headed to the lake. He had to say goodbye to Arthur. 

Arthur watched as Merlin came to the lake once again. He did not know what Merlin was going to do; but there was a finality to his steps that could not mean anything good. Merlin sat in the water, closed his eyes, and did not move. He stayed that way for days, until understanding dawned on Arthur. Merlin had decided that if the waters would not take him directly, he would find other ways to ensure he joined Arthur. If his attempt was unsuccessful, at least his suffering would end. Arthur turned to plead with the spirits one last time. 

_Please. I can’t just watch any longer._

The spirits seemed to understand. To his surprise, they nodded. 

**_It is time. Albion’s need is greatest._ **

Arthur stared. He couldn’t believe it. They agreed with him. Then he faltered, the rest of their words hitting him. Albion’s need was greatest? But there was no Albion anymore. How could its need be greatest? What horrors did that entail? He looked back to the spirits and saw their gazes fixed on Merlin who was still sitting in the water, completely statue-like, eyes closed. 

Suddenly, he understood. Merlin was all that was left of Albion. Merlin _was_ Albion. And now Merlin needed him more than ever. 

Arthur rushed to Merlin. As he broke the surface of the water, he was thrilled to see the water parted around him. He did not simply float through as he had done before. It seemed the spirits really had allowed him to leave. 

Arthur went up to Merlin and paused. He did not know what to do next. A hug seemed too forward, a jab seemed too cruel. He knew of the nightmares Merlin went through almost daily, so there was a probability he wouldn’t believe Arthur too. Arthur was at a loss. He was also cold. So very cold. He welcomed the cold though, it reassured him that he was really alive. 

Arthur settled on a neutral greeting. 

“Merlin.”

Merlin didn’t respond. Arthur’s breath hitched. What if Merlin still couldn’t hear him? 

“Merlin!” He put a gloved hand on the warlock’s shoulder, jumping when Merlin’s eyes snapped open and flashed gold. But Merlin stopped mid-spell when he finally took in who had disturbed him. 

“Arthur?” Merlin gasped. Then he became guarded once again. “There’s no way you’re really here.”

Arthur’s heart clenched. 

“It’s me, Merlin. Really, I thought over 1000 years of practice and you’d have at least developed basic skills of observation.”

Merlin squinted suspiciously. That sure sounded like Arthur. 

“How do I know I’m not dreaming?” Merlin demanded.

“Because I said so.” 

Well. That really sounded like Arthur. And even if this was a dream, Merlin was determined to enjoy it for as long as he could.

He smiled. That brilliant breathtaking smile that made Arthur forget everything else existed. Arthur couldn’t help but smile back. And finally, Arthur did what he had been wanting to do for the past thousand years. He reached forward and pulled Merlin into a hug. He held on as if his life depended on it, which in a way it did, and Merlin held him just as tightly. 

Merlin pulled away far too early in Arthur’s opinion. That was soon the last thing on his mind though as he could feel Merlin’s magic start to swirl around him. A quick glance at Merlin’s face showed raw grief and pain and sorrow and relief, all manifesting into a sort of cyclone around the two. The waves soaked them both, the wind whipped Arthur’s hair and cloak, and he threw up an arm to shield his eyes. Squinting up he could see Merlin. Merlin looked like a god.

Eyes glowing gold, there was an aura of power emitting from Merlin that made Arthur’s throat run dry. He was so glad Merlin liked him. Arthur gulped. At least, he hoped Merlin liked him. He supposed leaving for 1000 years wasn’t the best way to stay in the warlock’s good graces, no matter how unintentional. 

As suddenly as the cyclone started, it ended. Merlin collapsed, and Arthur barely had enough time to catch him. 

He carried a silently sobbing Merlin to the cabin and set him down on the bed. It seemed that the tremendous release of power accompanied by the lack of food had worn him out, and he had passed out. Arthur looked around and pulled over a chair. Arthur wasn’t even near tired; his body had been napping for the past thousand years. He was filled with restless energy. Ensuring Merlin was out of his soaked clothing and comfortable in bed, (God, how had Merlin managed to dress and undress him everyday without having any untoward thoughts? The man truly had admirable self control) he began to take off his own soaked armor. Thinking Merlin probably wouldn’t appreciate his bedroom suddenly filled with discarded clothing and metal bits, he placed it all in the living room. 

After, he looked around Merlin’s kitchen to find something he could give to the man when he woke up. Arthur sighed. He was absolute rubbish at cooking. By a stroke of luck, Merlin seemed to have some bread and crackers. Looking inside Merlin’s – what was it called again, fridge? – he noticed some milk. No matter how many times he had seen Merlin interact with this modern technology he was still amazed. He set it out and waited for the warlock to wake.

Sitting at Merlin’s kitchen table, Arthur imagined what it would be like to live here with Merlin. Would they be able to fall into their old pattern of insults and bickering? Or would there be something more? Something that came with waiting a thousand years to meet one another again? Arthur was pretty sure just friends didn’t wait that long for each other. In fact, he was sure even some romantic relationships wouldn’t last that.

Merlin woke up in cold sweat. He realized with a start he was in his bed again. Dread filled him. No. No, it couldn’t be. Had that been a dream again? Merlin couldn’t bear the thought. A sob rose from his throat. Through blurred vision he stumbled out of bed towards his kitchen. This couldn’t be happening again. Arthur couldn’t be gone.  
Hearing the steps, Arthur’s head snapped up to see a disheveled looking Merlin standing supported by the door frame. Merlin looked close to tears, but upon meeting Arthur’s worried gaze breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I thought it was a dream again.” Merlin mumbled.  
Arthur cursed himself for his stupidity. Of course. He should’ve stayed with Merlin. 

“Merlin, I- I’m sorry.” 

Merlin looked on incredulously. Arthur apologizing? Maybe he was dreaming after all. 

Noticing Merlin’s disbelief, Arthur winced. He really had been a prat. He sighed. He’d better apologize for everything now that he’d started. 

“I really am sorry Merlin. I mean it. I should have listened to you before, you always were right. You’ve always been there for me. And I should have been there for you.”  
Merlin could not believe what he was hearing. This was too good to be true. But Arthur wasn’t done yet. He went on to explain how for the past thousand years he had been watching over Merlin, though unable to reach out. Merlin was slightly mortified. Had Arthur seen him talking to that painting? Oh, he would never live that down.

As Arthur explained why he couldn’t come back until now, he shoved the food towards Merlin. 

“Eat up, you’ll need your strength for later.” Arthur said, sending him his signature half smirk. 

Merlin’s heart fluttered at the smirk as a blush crept up his neck. Did that mean what he thought it meant? 

They continued their thousand-year over-due conversation, Arthur feeling accomplished at the reaction his comment had gotten. He had said that to test Merlin, and he found that it seemed Merlin felt the same for him as Arthur did Merlin. Merlin couldn’t tear his eyes from Arthur’s, as though worried the Once and Future King would disappear if he looked away for even a second.

Merlin finally finished the bread and milk. Both gazed at each other contently as a comfortable silence settled. Merlin was doing his best to memorize every line of Arthur’s face, ensuring he would never forget it. 

Merlin got up to place the dishes in the sink, but in doing so elbowed a vase off the table. Before Arthur could reach out and catch it, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the vase stopped mid air, settling itself back on the table. Merlin glanced fearfully at Arthur. He knew that Arthur was aware of his magic, but he wasn’t sure just how much the other man accepted it. He didn’t want to lose Arthur after just getting him back.

Arthur noticed Merlin’s fear and it saddened him that even after all these years Merlin couldn’t be himself around Arthur for fear of being persecuted. Merlin should have realized by now that Arthur was nothing like his father. He didn’t hate magic. He realized magic was not inherently evil. And there was no way he would or could hate Merlin for something he now understood had not been his choice. To be honest, Arthur didn’t think he could ever hate Merlin at all. Especially not after just getting him back.

“Amazing.” Arthur breathed. 

Merlin visibly relaxed. 

“You don’t hate me?” Merlin asked, letting out a weak chuckle. 

“Merlin. I could never hate you.” The intensity behind Arthur’s words shocked Merlin. Looking into Arthur’s eyes he saw an emotion he had only dreamt of seeing directed at him. 

Arthur stepped closer. Merlin lifted his hand, unsure of what to do, and Arthur caught it in his own. Slowly, as if Merlin would break if he went any faster, Arthur closed the distance between them. As their lips met, Merlin was sure heaven had descended to Earth. Careful not to break the kiss, Merlin lead Arthur back to his bed.

“Bed already, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur murmured against Merlin’s jaw. 

“Shut up and kiss me, you prat,” Merlin groaned.

And so the prat did. 

They had a thousand years of separation to make up for, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Hope this was at least somewhat in character. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! First fanfic ever. Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment if you can, I'd love some feedback :)


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